A New Business
by Shay Blair
Summary: When all the interesting cases dry up, Sherlock takes John's accidental advice and opens a new business, to interesting results. Comedy, no slash.


Hey, I have a new Sherlock story out! That's right! This is my second story for the Sherlock fandom, so I'm still playing around a little and trying to get the characters right. So please, feel free to criticize and tell me if they seem out-of-character. Sherlock is difficult to write and I occasionally confuse him with another, similar character from a different TV show, particularly the dynamic between him and John.

This story is much less serious than my previous one, and is not slash. It's more fun, kind of a "oh dear, what has Sherlock done now?" story that every author ends up writing. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Also, I used the word "effervescent" and described Sherlock's movements using "flounced." Oh dear.

Without any further ado, here is the story!

* * *

><p><em>John, come quickly. Urgent. SH<em>

He ignored it, not wanting to fall for the same trick again. Knowing Sherlock, he probably just wanted milk.

_It's very dangerous. SH_

He frowned at the phone. After not receiving an immediate reply, he had sent another text. Odd though, usually John came running at the merest hint of danger. He may have to formulate a different theory. Time for desperate measures.

_Found Russians. SH_

John, startled at Sherlock explaining his demands, realized it may actually be something serious.

"I'm so sorry Sarah, but I've got to run. It's—"

"Sherlock," she finished, sighing. "Go ahead, I understand."

"Oh, God, thank you. I'm really sorry." With one final apology, John left, almost running.

Sarah sighed again, as she had been so much recently, this time sitting alone at a table in a fancy restaurant. "I'm used to it now."

o  
>O O<br>o

_Where are you?_

_West end. Abandoned factory. SH_

_The one you said had nothing to do with the case?_

A long wait for the reply. John grinned. _Yes. Now come._

_On my way._

o  
>O O<br>o

The next time it happened, John came right away. Sherlock's succinct text drew him in at once.

_Angelo's. Now. SH._

What did it matter that he was on his way back Sarah's place after seeing a movie? Who cared that he was sure today he wouldn't be on the sofa OR the lie-low? Was it important that tonight had been one of their precious few uninterrupted dates?

Nothing, not Sherlock, not at all.

John, trusting Sherlock, went running, a hasty apology cast in Sarah's direction.

He really should have known better.

"Sherlock, I'm here, what's wrong?" John panted, out of breath.

"Ah, John, excellent. Angelo and I were just having a discussion, and I apparently need your help to defeat his pathetic argument," Sherlock sniffed, stifling a caustic remark.

John stared at him.

"Angelo believes that is a couple over there when they are so _clearly_ brother and sister."

"I don't believe it," John laughed in shock, shaking his head.

"What?" Sherlock said, not understanding the issue. "Don't you see it? Even you should be able to."

"I really don't believe it. You text me with something that sounds urgent, but it's just to settle some bet!"

"Oh, not a bet. I never bet."

John just turned and walked out.

o  
>O O<br>o

"Give me the gun."

"For the last time, no. I promised Mrs. Hudson I wouldn't let you muck up her wall with _my_ gun. Besides, I always end up having to pay," John sighed, turning another page in the newspaper.

"I'm not going to shoot the wall."

"Then what are you going to shoot?"

"Myself!" Sherlock rose dramatically from the sofa, stomping over to the kitchen. He glared at the surprisingly clean contents.

"You aren't that bored, Sherlock."

"Maybe not. But I will be soon." He flounced around the kitchen, searching through cupboards, before turning to John once more. "Where are my experiments?"

"In the trash," he answered, not looking up.

"They're a biohazard there!"

"No they're not, I checked."

Momentarily defeated, Sherlock swooped back over to the couch. "There are no cases, you took the gun and my experiments, what am I to do? I suppose you would frown upon getting high?"

"Illegal, Sherlock." John was unfazed. This wasn't the first time Sherlock threatened to go back on drugs when John cracked down.

"Details." Sherlock too knew the statement was empty,

"How about this: mysterious death in that magazine owner's household?"

"Butler."

"Robbery at the palace, no trace of—"

"Butler."

"Disappearance of Lady Helena's daughter. I suppose that was the butler too?" John snapped.

"No, that one was the maid. Although she is the butler's secret mistress."

"I give up." John set the newspaper down, heading to his room.

Sherlock's voice stopped him. "The criminals are so _boring_ John."

"So find a hobby. A _normal_ hobby."

"What else would I be good at? Obviously being observant is all I need, but I am so very bored…"

His patience run out, John turned to Sherlock and hissed, "What else are you good at? How about ruining my dates with Sarah?"

John left in a huff, but Sherlock sat there for much longer, thinking.

o  
>O O<br>o

John stood staring at the screen, unsure if he truly wanted to know the answer. But, he was very curious and had never really had a proper sense of self-preservation.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting a hobby. I believe that was your suggestion."

"Yes it was, but what are you doing?"

"Honestly John, I would have thought you'd see. It was your idea after all." With a few more clicks, Sherlock finished. He opened his newly-created website and turned it so John could see. "I have also taken out an ad in the paper, put up fliers, and asked some graffiti artists to spread it."

Ignoring that last one, John leaned forward to see. He read it. He blinked. He read more. He blinked again. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I never kid."

"Anti-dating service," he read out loud. "Have an annoying significant other? A boyfriend or girlfriend who won't go away? Contact Sherlock Holmes now."

"Brilliant, isn't it?"

"I—" John started, then stopped, shaking his head. "You— What— Sure, yeah, brilliant."

Grinning a Cheshire grin, Sherlock turned back to the screen. "Now, we wait."

o  
>O O<br>o

"So, what does this, boyfriend, like?"

"Well," the girl said tentatively, "he likes sports, hockey's the big one, and, uh, he likes, you know, um, blue?" She said, searching the ceiling.

Sherlock sighed. "Clearly you haven't been going out for long."

The girl gaped at him. "Oh my _gawd_, how did you know?"

"I don't even need to refer to your purse or the cut of your neckline. Your lack of knowledge about him indicates a lack of intimacy and commitment. Therefore, you are a new couple. Obviously," Sherlock stated, losing interest in the girl. "Also, you have a new love interest, which is the reason for contacting me."

The girl could only stare. "You are totally the smartest person I've ever met."

Sherlock just looked down on her with disdain. "Why do you need my help?"

"Well, break-ups are so, like, icky…"

Sherlock sighed once again. "You are truly the most effervescent example of the teenage condition."

"Oh, thank you!" The girl beamed. "You are _so_ my idol now. Are you, like, available? Cause I would _so_ date you!"

"Wonderful…" Sherlock muttered as John suppressed laughter.

"So, like, how can I break up with him? I don't wanna do it…"

"Then I will," Sherlock said brusquely, opening his laptop. "Please sign into your e-mail and draft a new e-mail addressed to Tom."

"How did you know his name?" The girl was shocked again.

Sherlock did not deign to respond, instead simply waiting for the girl to log on. Once she had, he spun the laptop back around, deftly typing. At the end, he grinned, pleased with his work. John read it aloud, growing more and more amused.

"Lyk, hai Tom. So, i ttly don't wanna c u agan. Plz g'way, I has a new bf. Sally," John managed a straight face and monotone, eliciting a smirk from Sherlock.

"It totally sounds just like me!" The girl shrieked happily. "Send it, send it!"

Sherlock clicked send, then looked at the girl, what little patience he possessed running out. "And my payment?"

"Oh my God, duh!" The girl exclaimed. "Here, take it, it was so worth it!"

She shoved money into his hand and skipped out the door. John, as soon as she was gone, let out all his pent-up laughter. "I cannot believe you put up with that girl for so long. You!"

"Well I must say that was the most difficult part of that interaction," Sherlock remarked stiffly. "Lord knows the deductions weren't."

"And since when do you _ask_ to be paid?"

"Since my experiments began to cost me. Now, my next client should arrive in 3, 2, 1…"

"Sherlock!" John heard Mrs. Hudson call. "You've got another visitor dear."

"Send him up."

"Him?" John asked.

"Mrs. Hudson would have been far more excited had the client been another female."

"Oh, of course."

"Older, too, by the sound of his walk," Sherlock mused.

An elderly man walked in, confirming Sherlock's assertions.

"Well," Sherlock said, smiling in a way John knew to be both fake and interested. "Let's see what your trouble is. Wife is, ah, not your type?"

o  
>O O<br>o

One by one, Sherlock solved everyone's boyfriend/girlfriend problems.

"Tell her you're broke, and she'll leave you."

"Pretend you hate his favourite team."

"Insult cats."

Every insult, slight, or lie was tailor-made for the situation, perfectly calculated to maximize the ensuing hatred and the likelihood of break-up. Sherlock really was perfect for this, John had to admit. His observations, his science of deduction, found the flaws that are present in any relationship and exploited them. Those who came to him never had to break up with their partners, an "icky" task as Sherlock's first client so aptly described. Their partners were induced into breaking up with them.

Sherlock was able to earn much-needed money (which John was thankful for), show off, and be at least semi-intrigued.

Too bad nothing lasts.

o  
>O O<br>o

The knock on the door came as a surprise; Sherlock had not been expecting any clients. Seeing the low odds of Sherlock answering, John opened the door. Policemen immediately stormed in. Caught off guard, John was pushed to the side. The men entered and fanned out. Last in was the Detective Inspector. Not Lestrade, John noted. So not another fake bust to gain co-operation.

"Detective Inspector Corrigan," Sherlock appeared casual, not looking up from his violin.

"How did you—" he began, then stopped. "That answers my question."

"Oh, with your brain I seriously doubt you could answer a question without asking it."

"Oh really?"

"Really." Sherlock mocked.

"Alright then. Are you Sherlock Holmes?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? Obviously I am, not sure why you have to ask."

Corrigan, exasperated with Sherlock after mere seconds, turned to John for help. John merely shrugged. Turning back, he decided the best option was to push on through. "Are you the operator of the business 'Anti-Dating Service'?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you," at least he _had_ been, until he actually met Sherlock, "but you're going to have to shut it down."

Finally, Sherlock looked up. "And why, exactly, is that?"

"It's been associated with illegal activities," he said with relish, pulling out photographs of Sherlock's unorthodox ads.

"Graffiti? It's barely illegal!" Sherlock snorted.

"Perhaps. I was originally going to issue a warning, but now I'm going to have to insist you shut it down." Corrigan's eyes gleamed at this.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Sherlock hissed, standing up dramatically.

"Sherlock," John said quietly but firmly. "What did I say about listening to police?"

"I believe you said to listen and I believe I said I will when they use their brains."

"He doesn't mean that," John addressed Corrigan, trying to smooth things over. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement of some sorts."

"We most certainly cannot until—" Sherlock stated.

"I must insist—" Corrigan cut in.

John sighed as it began. Thankfully, fate intervened.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade burst in, pausing for a moment in surprise. "Er, hullo Corrigan."

"Lestrade! What are you doing here?" Corrigan exclaimed.

"I'm here for Sherlock." As Lestrade turned to Sherlock, John saw a familiar look of desperation in his eyes. "We need your help."

"_Please_ tell me it's not another robbery."

"No. It's a triple murder, with no weapon and zero suspects. Please."

Sherlock paused for effect, then grinned. "Very well, I suppose I shall lend my skills." On his way out, he stopped and turned to Corrigan. "Don't worry, the site will be down in no time. The game is finally back on!"

With a wink and a flourish, he swept out, Lestrade right behind. John waited a moment, then addressed a bewildered Detective Inspector.

"Don't worry, he usually has that effect."

"John!" An imperious call from Sherlock.

John ran off with a wide grin. All was back to normal.

Well, relatively.

* * *

><p>And there it is! Love it? Hate it? Leave me a review!<p>

Until we meet again,  
>Shay.<p> 


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